


"What Do You Deserve?"

by Zonee



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Hell Loops (Lucifer TV), Lucifer in Hell, Post-Season/Series 04, Priest in Hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:54:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zonee/pseuds/Zonee
Summary: What's only slightly worse than a priest on Earth? A priest in Hell. Lucifer is in Hell and wants to make sure this priest gets the punishment he deserves. Things don't go according to plan.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	"What Do You Deserve?"

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fanfic of any fandom! I love Lucifer and all the characters in the show <3 
> 
> This fic has not been beta read, and English is not my first language. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy ^_^

A door creaked open. Father Chapman frowned and looked around. There were no doors in the brightly lit space around him, at least none that could have made that sound. It had sounded like an old and heavy door. He listened, but all he heard were the ever present sounds of dice hitting tables, the pings of slot machines, people chatting and moving around.

And then his eyes were drawn to the cards in his hands again. A terrible hand. His playmates knew it. They were mocking him openly now. Sweat ran down Father Chapman’s forehead. It was the heat, the impossible heat none of his playmates seemed to be bothered by. Father Chapman knew they would see it as another sign of nerves; they had already noticed his shaking hands and knit brows. He couldn’t relax them, no matter how hard he tried. And now he had to make a decision. He was hit with a strong feeling of deja vu, a foreboding that something bad was going to happen if he did what he was thinking of doing. He hesitated.

Something made him look up. A man moved through the crowd further away. He fit right into the surrounding with his immaculate suit and dark hair groomed to perfection. Never the less, something about the stranger seemed different. Father Chapman couldn’t explain it, but the stranger seemed more present, more real than any other person in there. He seemed to be looking for someone. It wasn’t long before a pair of dark eyes found Father Chapman’s. The stranger smiled, a wide smile that didn’t quite reach the eyes.

“There you are!” the man said with a flourish. He spoke with a British accent. Quite the showman, thought Father Chapman. Something about the man radiated power that went beyond his tailor made suit and tall frame. “Quite a lot of people you have conjured up in here. Let me guess, former parishioners? A collection of your all time favorite porn stars?” The stranger looked around. “Definitely not the former. The people here are way too good looking to be led astray by my self-righteous prick of a Dad”.

“What?” It was all Father Chapman could say. The stranger ignored the it.

He sat down in the chair opposite Father Chapman – hadn’t someone else just been sitting there? - like they had a scheduled meeting Father Chapman hadn’t been aware of. 

“What dreadful sins are you trying to punish yourself for, dear Padre? A horde of children chained up in the basement of this establishment? Gambling with the parish’s money? Because this” \- he man gestured to the Casino floor around them - “simply won’t do. You’re here to be punished, not to have a shot of the next jackpot, imagined or not.” 

The strangers eyes had never wavered from  Father Chapman’s , never even blinked.  There was a dangerous look in them that sent shills down his spine.  He leaned as far back as he could, but at the same time he felt himself drawn in by this enigmatic stranger.  It prevented him from simply standing up and walking away.  Father Chapman had lost concentration on the game.  Something was wrong in his side vision.  It was as if the men beside him had no faces, people changed seats in the blink of an eye, the men around him kept playing as if he’d never stopped playing himself.  He didn’t dare to look, he didn’t dare to take his eyes off the man in front of him. 

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced?” Father Chapman said. He couldn’t stop the tremor in this voice. 

The stranger’s smile widened. “You are one of my Father’s not-so-holy emissaries. I’m the one who runs this hellhole of a place, pun wholeheartedly intended. The Prince of darkness, King of the damned, you get the picture. And you, my dear Father, are not getting the punishment you deserve. I’m here to fix that” The stranger leaned slowly forward as he spoke, grin still wide. Father Chapman almost fell out of the chair when dark brown eyes suddenly flashed red. He wanted to run, his feet refused to move. Or they couldn’t move. He didn’t know which. 

“Don’t bother. There is nowhere to run to” the stranger said. “And we have the whole of eternity to figure out what juicy punishment you deserve” The strangers voice was a dark timbre now, dangerous.

The world around Father Chapman crumbled into shapes and blurs, a world that seemed to never have been real. He knew this by instinct,  even when his mind rebelled at the idea. Shapes  that only resembled people  kept  moving around him and the stranger. The table between them wa s the on ly thing left.  That’s where Father Chapman  focused his eyes . His hands shook in his lap, sweat glistered his hair, his breath fast and shallow. 

“I-I’m innocent, I swear. I haven’t done anything” Father Chapman said, but even as the word left his mouth he knew them to be lies. For what happened once he came home, once he’d lost all his money in this dreadful place? His wife would greet him with a soft kiss on the lips, asked where he’d been. He would lie, but she would know. Their home had changed from spacious, to a rundown apartment barely big enough for themselves and their two daughters. And his daughters, they would sit on the sofa. Disappointment, even hatred, would radiate from them. 

“Oh, hello, seems I missed the climax of the show, and not the fun kind” the stranger was saying. Father Chapman was pulled out of his thoughts only to see them play out in vague shadows and shapes around them. He ran his fingers through his balding head, he massaged his temples and eyes with the balls of his palms. His hands were still shaking.

“And who are these lovely people? More importantly: How did you let them down?” the man asked. He eyed him like a cat honing in on a meal. 

“I let them down” Father Chapman repeated. 

“Yes, that’s what I just said. Now -”

“I thought I was doing it for them, but I let them down. I thought it would be easy. It’s just a numbers game.” Father Chapman said, and then it all came tumbling out. “Marcia, she wants to open a bakery. She’s been baking ever since she was small. She makes these little cakes that look like gloves and scarfs and hats – she even makes ones who look like those house scarf things in Harry Potter. They taste amazing too. She needs money. I-I thought I was helping her” 

“Hold on-”

“And Mary, she doesn’t know what she wants to do with her life yet. She’s so bright. She aces all of her tests at school even though she’s always helping with the charity work. I want her to be able to go to whatever school she wants” Father Chapman said.

As he spoke, the shapes around the table were changing.  Soon, a young woman and a teenage girl sat beside them. Father Chapman’s chest filled with love just by looking at them. They had no hate in their eyes now. They smiled at him. 

“Bloody hell” said the stranger, there was something akin to astonishment in his voice, but Father Chapman ignored him. 

“My wife. She’s everything to me. So beautiful. Always so beautiful, you know, body and soul. She never complain when all our earnings and savings started going into the charity. She says we can live with little less if it means one more family no longer goes hungry” 

An older women appeared beside them now.  She had gray streaks in her hair, and her eyes wrinkled with years of smiles and laughter. Father Chapman couldn’t take his eyes of off her. 

“I really don’t deserve her” he said, quietly.

“And they clearly didn’t deserve you. I mean – using your precious time on earth for _that_ , it’s just so boring! The poor women probably never had any real fun in their lives. They’ll end up dying of old age while making dreadful soup for the poor after haven helped even older ladies cross the street. All because of you. Deary me, you’re even making me bored. You’re ruining my distraction, you know that?” 

Father Chapman only blinked at the stranger. Something about what he said  recalled something forgotten, something about his situation that he should  know.  As  soon as it began to surface, it was gone. 

T he stranger leaned back in his chair and eyed him. 

“As much as I love the thought of my Father’s emissaries tortured down here – and Dad knows there are many of them, or at least we bloody well should hope He knows – I don’t think you fit the bill, my dear Padre. So” He leans forward again. His brown eyes look deep into Father Chapman’s blue ones. “Tell me, what do you deserve?” 

“I...I-I deserve forgiveness” Father Chapman breathed. He knew it to be true deep within his being. 

“Very well” the stranger said with a sigh. “If you weren’t so dreadfully boring I’d say you should feel special. You’re the first to leave. Not that the place you’re going to is any better, mind you”

The world around Father Chapman was changing again, but this time it was different. It reminded him of  a polaroid photo being developed. The darkness vanished to be replaced by something colorless  and empty.  He thought he saw an open door behind the stranger, it looked old and thick.  What was raining down? Not snow . 

“Feel free to continue the gambling up there, though. Don’t let my annoyingly straight arrow siblings ruin your fun” the stranger said. “If all else fails, you could always put in a few wagers here and there on whether certain people of your choice end up in Heaven or not. Should be interesting.” 

“Heaven?” Father Chapman said, and as soon as he did, light appeared around him. He looked at his hands. They were glowing.

The stranger scoffed. “And they say I’m dramatic”

Father Chapman’s surroundings started to fade away, to be gradually replaced by pure, beautiful light. The stranger watched, detached.

“Oh, and make sure to give my Father the middle finger -two, if you’d like-, if you see Him, although you most likely won’t”.

F ather Chapman felt a serenity unlike anything he’d ever felt before. With it came a sudden love for the stranger, who had clearly grown bored and had turned to leave.  He felt himself begin to drift upwards.  He saw the stranger walk into a corridor among endless corridor, with endless amount of doors.  H e couldn’t help feeling the stranger didn’t deserve to be there either. Then all was light. 


End file.
